


Awkward Gospel

by comicgeekery



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2020-10-11 22:16:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20553551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comicgeekery/pseuds/comicgeekery
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley have grown very close since the not-apocalypse. In fact they may be on the verge of admitting some very intimate secrets. Too bad the forces of hell have other plans in store for them!





	1. A Chaste Evening of Sexual Frustration

**Chapter One**

Things were different after the apocalypse. 

That was just the sort of trite obvious thing to say that Crowley hated. Of course things would be different after the apocalypse. The thing was, by definition, world-changing. 

Only it wasn't supposed to be, not this time. The whole point of everything he and Aziraphale had done over the past eleven years was meant to prevent any major, apocalyptic-type things from happening to their beloved adopted home. And, with no real thanks to their dogged efforts, the world _hadn't_ ended. Adam had saved them all.

That didn't mean there had been no changes though. Crowley supposed that ultimately change was the nature of Earth, but it wasn't generally within the realm of angels and demons. That was why Crowley was nearly beside himself with shock one day when he dropped by Aziraphale's bookshop and discovered the angel in state he had never seen him in before.

There was music playing in the shop. Music coming from the radio. _Pop_ music. Customers were wandering the store with slight smiles on their faces as they glanced up from time to time at the normally withdrawn and excessively polite proprietor. And there was Aziraphale, walking among them, recommending titles, doing a strange slight wiggle to his hips, and....

“Are you wearing _jeans_?” Crowley had to ask, utterly flabbergasted. 

Aziraphale stopped dancing abruptly and the music stopped with him, suggesting that the radio had only started playing in the first place from shear encouragement rather than from simply being turned on. The angel blushed furiously and quickly excused himself from the conversation he'd been having with a middle-aged woman.

“Um. Hello, Crowley,” he said hesitantly. “I, uh, didn't expect to see you today. Didn't you say something about going into town to do some shopping?” Aziraphale looked down awkwardly, but it didn't help any because now they were both staring at the bright blue jeans he was indeed wearing.

It wasn't that they looked bad. The jeans were clearly a designer brand and Aziraphale was wearing them with a tasteful tan cardigan. The problem was that the whole outfit looked so...twenty-first century. It had been millennia since Crowley had seen him look so modern. And then there was the music and the dancing and the _encouraging customers to buy books_.

“What in blazes has gotten into you?” Crowley burst out. “Have you been possessed?”

That made Aziraphale press his lips together in a firm line. “You needn't be so critical. I don't criticize the way _you_ dress.”

“I seem to recall a number of comments on my tight trousers that would indicate to the contrary,” Crowley said dismissively, “but that's not my point. Since when have _you_ ever willingly decided to dress down? Don't tell me you've been hiding casual Tuesdays from me for the last hundred years.”

Aziraphale opened his mouth then noticed that they were beginning to draw the attention of the nearby patrons. He made a frustrated sound then led Crowley to the back room. 

“If you must know,” the angel finally explained, “I've decided to try some slight changes to my life.”

“Oh really?” Crowley quirked an eyebrow. “And what's brought this on?”

“The world nearly ended, my dear! Everything I care about was nearly destroyed in an utterly senseless war and I realized that I hadn't experienced nearly half the joys the Earth has to offer!” Aziraphale drew himself up with dignity. “I think a change of clothes is going to be the least of the changes you'll see around here. For a time at least.”

Crowley didn't know what to think. He certainly had a strange mixture of emotions stirring in his gut. Looked at objectively he realized that Aziraphale had been through quite a bit of stress lately. Fighting to save the world, discorporating, losing his bookshop, trying to kill a child, standing to face the devil himself, then deceiving both heaven and hell to avoid a nasty execution. All that was the sort of thing that took a toll on one. No wonder the poor angel was having a crisis. Crowley looked at him sympathetically. 

“I get it,” Crowley said. “You've gone and gotten yourself traumatized.”

“What? Well, I don't know about that...”

“Shh.” Crowley pressed a finger to Aziraphale's mouth and did his best to ignore the lingering warmth of Aziraphale's lips. “It's alright. I think we're both entitled to a bit of traumatic fall-out at this point. We've both had quite the stressful week. I even lost my Bentley for a bit.” _And you. I thought I lost you._

Alright, so it was a legitimate punch to the gut to think you'd lost your best friend of 6000 years, but Crowley tamped down on the thought anyway. The world wasn't ending anymore. No need to be getting all emotional about it. Instead... “Why don't we turn this whole trauma thing into a bit of fun? You're trying out new trousers and being a personable bookseller. I could try wearing colors that aren't black and, I don't know, scuba diving.”

“You could try being nice to your plants,” Aziraphale put in, seeing where this conversation was going.

Crowley grimaced at the thought, then considered things a step further. “I'll do it if you go to a restaurant and don't pay your bill.”

Aziraphale spluttered. “They work hard to give a satisfactory meal experience! I could only do that if you...spent some time entertaining the elderly.”

Now Crowley was outright grinning. “Then you'd have to leave rude comments on Youtube. After you figured out how to use it.”

“You'd have to run a marathon for charity!”

“_You'd_ have to ruin someone's wedding day!”

“Adopt a puppy!”

“_Kick_ a puppy!”

“Cook a meal for the homeless!”

“Commit fraud on your taxes!”

Aziraphale held a hand to his chest. “Well, let's not go _too_ far, my dear. You know that I'm audited enough as it is.”

“Don't worry so much, angel. You're smart enough to commit some technical fraud without getting caught.” 

The compliment made Aziraphale blush slightly, looking quite pleased with himself. “Be that as it may, I don't think I need an identity crisis on top of this 'trauma' as you put it. I simply want to experience a wider purview of what the world has to offer.” He gave Crowley a small, warm smile. “I'd be quite pleased if you would join me.”

Aziraphale always had the best smiles. Crowley would assume it was due to his angelic nature if he didn't know so many angels. In any case, Crowley was hardly going to say no in the first place, but that smile was definitely the bow on the top of the package.

“Alright, I'm game,” Crowley said. “We shall we do first, O Angel of Adventure?”

“Oh dear, I hadn't thought that far ahead.” Aziraphale thought for a moment. “Hold on, let me close the shop first. Then how about you teach me about this Youtube business?”

And that was the start of it. Their first step into a world of new-found and somewhat terrifying freedom. They were on their own side now, without heaven or hell to report to. It left both of them trembling and thrilled at the possibilities. They went scuba diving (without air tanks), climbed mountains, and explored caves (which was quite fun to do without the need for much light). Aziraphale learned more about the internet and bought quite a few things on Amazon before learning about some of the business's practices and then spent several months working on helping their employees unionize. Crowley tagged along for the chaos and had quite a bit of fun ruining executives' days. 

The short of it was they had adventures and spent nearly every day together for a year. It was...fun. More than that. It made Crowley feel warm in a way he hadn't felt for millennia. And when he was able to be quite honest with himself, he had to admit that that warmth scared him. It was a strange thing that was at once new and, he suspected, quite old. He didn't know what to do with the feeling so he just squirreled it away into a corner of his subconscious and did his best not to think about it.

Then one day Aziraphale pressed the issue.

“So, what'll be today, angel?” Crowley asked over lunch. “Want to try robbing a bank? Committing vandalism? Taking all the free samples off the plate at the supermarket?” Aziraphale never went for his more hellish suggestions, but Crowley still enjoyed the flustered look on the angel's face whenever he brought them up.

“Actually, I was thinking of something closer to home for today,” said Aziraphale with a small smile. “I'd like to try sleeping.”

Crowley raised his eyebrows. “Not exactly the most exciting thing you've ever done, but I can't fault you. I've been telling you about the wonders of sleep for centuries now.”

"I know," Aziraphale agreed with a roll of his eyes. "It's one of those things I haven't been able to get you to _stop_ talking about for all those centuries." He looked back at Crowley more fondly this time. "That's why I was hoping you could, well, show me how it's done!" He punctuated the sentence with an enthusiastic swish of his arm, looking very pleased with himself. 

Crowley took it all in, enjoying Aziraphale's enjoyment as he often did, before he grinned wickedly and said, "So are you saying...that you want to sleep with me?"

And then....

_THEN_

The blasted, damnable angel _didn't say no!_

He snorted, coughed into his hand, and signaled the server for their check. Crowley watched him with confusion and then shock. This couldn't mean...Surely Aziraphale wouldn't....

But then again, things were different now in this post-apocalypse world. Perhaps, just perhaps, Azriaphale had always been curious in the way that, well, _Crowley_ had always been curious. About...things. Intimate things that Crowley had never dared give a name to. Because sex was one thing. Crowley had done sex plenty of times. All in all it was alright. It was a great tool for tempting people and an even better prelude to an excellent nap (once he'd kicked the other person out). But sex with Aziraphale? That would be different. It would be an act between equals who understood each other and even liked each other. It would be...amicable. 

Which was exactly why Crowley's heart was pulsing at an unusually high rate right now (on par with feeling like an earthquake in his chest). He was just taken aback by the amicable-ness of it all.

Crowley cleared his throat and did his best to seem casual. "So, um, just to be clear here, are you talking about..."

Unfortunately Aziraphale spoke at the exact same time. "I was thinking I could come by tonight at eight, which should give us plenty of time for preparation and any necessary explanations. Sound good? Excellent." 

And with that Aziraphale was gone. Not just walking away, the bastard had miracled himself out of the restaurant! Crowley glared at the space the angel had occupied. Just what was going through his celestial head? Was he seriously propositioning him?

No. Crowley quickly shoved the thought away. Aziraphale did not proposition people. He didn't tempt or flirt or seduce either. No, this was all just a misunderstanding, obviously. He just wanted to try sleeping and wanted Crowley to show him the ropes (_ Aziraphale and ropes..._) so to speak. No, this would just be a bit of a sleep-over, a pajama party of two, a bit childish even.

And surprisingly, Crowley was alright with that. He didn't need to see Aziraphale trussed up in lingerie, eyes lolled back in pleasure, begging to be touched again...Alright so the image had _some_ appeal, but it wasn't _necessary_. Instead Crowley just found himself looking forward to the company of his dearest friend. It was strange. They had spent so much time together lately, both in the past year and in the preceding decade with Warlock, and yet he still wasn't tired of spending time with the angel. Even a simple night in where they'd spend most of their time sleeping sounded nothing short of pleasant. 

Crowley smiled and laughed softly at the realization. He was a demon who was not only going soft, but rather was like butter left on the counter overnight. Press into him and you'd leave a dent. The thought didn't bother him at all. After all, he had an eternity to be wicked. He'd get around to it again at some point.

He paid the bill (because of course Aziraphale would want him to) and got up to leave the restaurant. He had a chaste, sexually frustrating evening to get ready for.

What Crowley didn't know was that the whole time he was being watched by a very interested party, one who had much more wicked plans in store.


	2. Cat-Calls

**Chapter Two**

Aziraphale was in love. There were no ways about it. He could sense love and it was pouring out of him in waves. His love had been planted millennia ago and had grown into a beautiful, wondrous garden that felt on par with Eden itself.

He was in love with Crowley. It was a thought that would have terrified him even a year ago. Indeed, it had left him in flat, frightened denial for centuries. Despite his demonic ways Crowley was kind, interesting, entertaining, and....and just grand. He was Aziraphale's dearest friend and to Aziraphale he was also so much more. In the past year they had grown closer than ever before, being able to revel in truly being on their own side. 

Then at one point, over an otherwise uneventful dinner, Aziraphale had simply felt something click into place. _Yes,_ he thought. _This is what I want forever. I want to be by his side, enjoying meals, going on little adventures, and discovering some new wonder about him everyday._

The trouble was, angels and demons had a number of little defense mechanisms against each other. Aziraphale couldn't just sense if Crowley returned his feelings. Instead he had had to do things the human way and try to divine the truth through observation. This had managed, like it did for many humans, to drive Aziraphale a bit mad.

Clearly Crowley _liked_ him. By his own admission they had been friends for 6,000 years. And now they spent nearly everyday together, simply enjoying each other's company. Really when one got right down to it, the only change Aziraphale was looking for was a few kisses.

Well, maybe more than a few. Maybe quite a bit more than that actually.

That was when he came up with his Plan. It wasn't an Ineffable Plan or even a Great Plan, but Aziraphale was proud of it none-the-less. After an extensive amount of research and reading he'd decided that the best way to test the waters of Crowley's affections was to offer him a bit of an opportunity. A sleep-over was exactly the ticket!

He'd planned it very carefully. The trick was to act as though he merely had an interest in sleeping, but leave things ambiguous enough that there was room for more to happen. They might move closer and closer in the night, until they were cuddled up to each other and Aziraphale could plant the lightest of kisses on Crowley's forehead. Crowley would wonder if it had been a dream or just some unconscious action on Aziraphale's part, but that would be enough. He would start thinking of the romantic possibilities between them if he hadn't already. 

Aziraphale grinned and scrunched up his face in glee at the thought. A squeal may have been uttered. Although it was still early he went to the bookshop and prepared for the evening. He packed his finest, freshly-acquired silk pajamas and wondered how disheveled they might be in the morning from a night of aggressive cuddles and kisses. He brushed his teeth for approximately ten minutes. Finally, as an afterthought, he put a dab of cologne behind each ear, just where Crowley might find it if he nuzzled into Aziraphale's neck. 

He tried not to get too excited. After all, he hardly expected to make any romantic confessions tonight. It was an evening for first steps. But still, Aziraphale couldn't stop the voice in his head that kept murmuring, _what if...._

That was why he approached Crowley's flat with a giddy skip in his step a whole half hour before their scheduled meeting time. He even bought a potted plant on the way to celebrate the occasion. He wasn't naive. He knew there was a chance that Crowley wouldn't return his feelings. But that almost seemed besides the point. The point was that Crowley was wonderful and Aziraphale was going to have the chance to express that. No matter what happened tonight, he was sure it would be delightful. 

Basically, he was in the perfect position for the universe to punch him in the gut.

Aziraphale knocked when he got to Crowley's door, or at least he raised his fist to do so. The door opened before his hand actually made contact. Aziraphale froze in confusion. Standing in the doorway was a very beautiful woman with long curly hair, tight pants, and a top that revealed quite a bit of cleavage. Her teeth looked sharp and her eyes were not quite human.

All this might have been perfectly normal, however the woman was not Crowley. 

“Hello,” she said with a sweetness that gave Aziraphale goosebumps. “You must be Aziraphale. We've been waiting for you.”

**Earlier**

After parting that morning Crowley's day had not gone very well. There was traffic, some of his plants had dared to consider wilting, and of course there was the small fact that the forces of hell had decided to invade his home. 

Crowley had been examining his flat, daring any dust to have accumulated anywhere. Things had to be perfect for when Aziraphale showed up, after all. So one moment he was glaring at his coffee maker and the next he nearly jumped out of his skin as a long-nailed hand lightly scratched down his back.

“Hello there, Crowley,” a voice murmured in his ear. “I'm so glad to finally meet you.” 

He didn't need to smell the air to know he was dealing with a demon. Only hell could be quite so theatrical. It came of getting nearly all the best composers. Crowley tried to focus. He wasn't dead yet, which was always a good sign, and the voice in his ear sounded coy. That meant he was dealing with someone who wanted to play games, which gave him time to figure out what the heaven was going on exactly. 

He turned, slowly and carefully, to see just who had invaded his kitchen. A short woman stood before him with a wicked grin on her face. Her skin was a deep brown and her eyes were unnaturally green with narrow slits for irises. She was wearing clubbing clothes that looked far too fashionable for most demons' tastes. 

“Oh. Um. Hello,” Crowley stammered. “Are you sure you're in the right place? There isn't some other Crowley you should be, um, menacing?”

The woman crossed her arms and cocked her head. “No, don't think so. You are the legendary Crowley, serpent of Eden who survived holy water, aren't you?”

For a moment Crowley genuinely considered saying no in the hopes that it would make her go away. But the bit about the holy water made him reconsider. “Yes! That's me! A terrifying legend among demons! You'd better be off if you know what's good for you!”

Sadly, this didn't seem to impress her. Instead of quaking or disappearing on the spot she just hopped up onto the counter and conjured a cup of questionable-looking tea.

Alright, fine. He could be British about things too. He miracled up his own cuppa then leaned against the counter opposite her.

She raised her cup.

He did the same.

They both took long, slurping sips.

The woman winced at the taste in hers and Crowley took it as a personal victory. Demon or not, she clearly didn't have what it took to make a good cup of tea. It gave him a burst of confidence.

"So, I don't get many visitors here. What brings you around?"

"Let's just say I was in the neighborhood," she practically purred. Between the voice and the outfit she was really taking the whole sex kitten thing a step too far. She looked around at Crowley's kitchen, clearly unimpressed. "So sparse here. Do you really think it's going to impress your little angel friend for your big night?"

That gave Crowley a sinking feeling in his gut. She knew about Aziraphale. More than that, she knew that he was supposed to visit tonight. Was this some sort of trap? Crowley quickly considered the possibility of using the coffee pot as a make-shift weapon.

“Who are you?” he asked at last. “Not to be rude, but I don't exactly know _all_ the denizens of hell.”

“Not at all. We can't all be biblical super-stars, of course.” She held out her hand so politely that Crowley took it without thinking. “My name is Salandra. Maybe you've heard of me?”

He had, though it took a bit of thinking to remember just what it was he had heard. Salandra was a relatively low-ranking demon with a reputation for exquisite cruelty, often playing with her victims before going in for the metaphorical (or literal) kill. 

Alright, so it was a game then. Crowley was good at games. “You know, it's quite rude to watch people without their permission.”

Salandra shrugged without regret. “I'm shy. I wanted to know a bit about you before we met. And boy did I learn some things!” Despite it all she took another sip of her tea, fought back another grimace and then smirked at Crowley. “You _want_ that angel, don't you? You want to debauch his celestial body.” She stared right into Crowley's eyes, looking far more knowing than he was comfortable with. “Good for you!”

“Wot?” Crowley managed. He'd been far from expecting approval of his inner-most fantasies from...well from anyone really.

“We're demons, Crowley! I think we can both get behind a bit of lust.” She winked. “Can't say I share your tastes, but the idea of you getting your dark, sinful fingers all through his golden, angelic hair, the thought of you leaving him a soiled, tainted mess, well that just makes my heart feel all mushy inside.”

Oh. That was... certainly a picture. “Right. Definitely what I'm up to. Tainting Aziraphale.” Crowley felt something twist uncomfortably in his gut as he said it. “But that doesn't explain what you're doing here! I thought Hell had decided to give me a wide berth. Thought that would last longer than a year.”

“It has, believe me.” Salandra leaned forward, put a hand to her mouth, and lowered her voice. “I'm not actually supposed be here.”

“Then...why are you here?” Did she have a death wish or something?

“I'll tell you,” she said with another wide grin. “I think you're going to love it!”

**Later**

Aziraphale stared at the woman. Had he somehow gone to the wrong flat? No, she'd said his name and those eyes...No. She was clearly a demon. What was another demon doing at Crowley's home? Was he safe? Had she done something to him?

Fear and anger rushed through Aziraphale. He didn't know if he should demand to see Crowley or simply barge in past her. All his instincts were on high alert for any sort of attack she or some other hidden assailant might make. That was why it took him a moment to recognize the sound coming from behind her.

It was laughter. Crowley's laughter.

“Um, pardon me,” Aziraphale said awkwardly and the demon graciously stepped aside, even bowing slightly.

“Angel!” Crowley came into view from the kitchen, much to Aziraphale's relief. He was still laughing. “You won't believe what's happened!”

“Are you alright?” Aziraphale burst out immediately. Then it occurred to him that he might have to be more tactful in front of a potential enemy. “That is, I didn't know you were expecting company.”

Crowley gestured toward the woman. “This is Salandra, common demon of Hell and, get this, my _replacement_.”

Salandra waved. “It's good to meet you, Aziraphale. I've heard so many horrible things about you and your thwarting ways!”

“My thwarting...Right. Yes. Quite.” Aziraphale looked between her and Crowley, feeling very anxious and lost. “What do you mean, she's your replacement?”

“It's very simple,” Salandra explained. “Hell has decided Crowley is too dangerous to stay on the payroll, but they still _someone_ up on Earth sowing temptations and damning souls. So, that's me.”

“But that's not the funny part,” Crowley quickly added. “Go on, tell him.”

“Well,” she continued, “the reason I came here tonight was because I wanted to get some advice from the master of life on Earth. Or rather, master_s_.” She gestured pointedly at both Crowley and Aziraphale.

Aziraphale felt his heart sink. Whatever she was going on about, he instinctively knew it wasn't good. Why was Crowley so amused though? Why was he acting like Salandra was a friend, an ally? Aziraphale didn't like it. It wasn't like Crowley to be chummy with other demons. Not like this.

Salandra went on. “The thing is, Heaven and Hell didn't want to risk another 'interdepartmental alliance', so they're trying an experiment. One representative for both!” She snapped her fingers and a badge of some sort appeared in her hand. It featured a silhouette of a person with gray wings, horns, and a halo. “Ta-da! You're looking at the world's first official agent of temptation and salvation, a gray angel as they call me upstairs. I'm here to make the Earth a better, and worse, place!”

That was Crowley burst into laughter all over again. “Isn't it too perfect, Angel? They came up with an Arrangement all on their own!”

Well, at least Aziraphale finally knew what the joke was. He just didn't find it funny. What could heaven be thinking, trusting miracles to a demon they didn't even know. It had taken him thousands of years to trust Crowley even slightly, never mind how long it had taken him to agree to the Arrangement.

But then, Crowley had always been the one pushing for them to work together, hadn't he? Maybe this was a relief to him as much as it was a source of amusement. Maybe this to him was a vision of a world where things were actually making sense. Or at least more sense than usual. Aziraphale's heart sank further. His friendship with Crowley had been born out of necessity in many ways. They'd been the only two beings on Earth who could understand each other. What would it mean to him to have another demon around who wasn't trying to kill him? What if she proved to be a better friend to Crowley than Aziraphale had been?

Aziraphale watched as Salandra started to laugh with Crowley, both of them dressed in black and looking ready for a party with unseemly loud music. No. He didn't like the image they presented at all. 

“In any case,” Salandra said, interrupting Aziraphale's thoughts, “I hoping to work with you two a lot. Tempting should come easily to me, but blessings will be a chore. Besides that, I barely know anything about the Earth! I'll need you two to be my guides!” She stood between them and hooked her arms through theirs. “What do you say to a night on the town?”

“What?” Aziraphale stammered. “But we, that is, we had _plans_.” He glanced in the direction of Crowley's bedroom, thinking longingly of heart-felt confessions and sweet caresses. 

“Oh, that's right, you did, didn't you?” Salandra winked knowingly at Crowley and Aziraphale wondered just what _that_ was supposed to mean. “Well, I'd hate to get in your way. I'll just paint the town red by myself!” She began to head towards the door, then turned back looking confused. “That _does_ mean to paint everything with blood, right?”

Crowley and Aziraphale exchanged an alarmed look. Perhaps it wasn't the best idea to let an uneducated demon run rampant in the city. The romantic evening would have to wait. Aziraphale could only hope Salandra wouldn't keep them busy for too long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're all enjoying the story so far! It's been a lot of to write and I have a lot of twists in store for you! Please leave your thoughts in the comments and feel free to follow/contact me at tumblr under comicgeekery!


	3. Teaching and Temptations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Salandra pushes everyone's buttons, then learns a bit about the work of angels.

**Chapter Three**

It was a week later before Aziraphale had a chance to talk to Crowley. A week that might as well have been an eternity. 

There were two major problems with Salandra as it turned out. The first was that she took to life on Earth far too well. She had taken to the idea of 'clubbing' very well, even after she discovered it didn't involve hitting anyone with a club. She enjoyed dancing and she enjoyed drinking, so much so that she insisted on doing them all night every night that week. It was only through Aziraphale and Crowley's constant vigilance that they'd kept her in the relatively tame dance halls and away from the strong drugs.

The second problem was that her taste was, to put things bluntly, _cheap_. She liked food that was greasy and alcohol that burned like hellfire going down. Aziraphale had done his best to put up with the night after night of crude dancing in seedy clubs (he was, he reminded himself, doing his best to try new things), but he finally had to draw the line one night as they once again wandered through London. 

“No!” Aziraphale burst out at last. “Not again!”

Crowley and Salandra stopped walking. They were both ahead of him and had been laughing over something one of them had said. They'd practically been arm-in-arm for days now. Aziraphale was relieved to see them step apart. 

“No?” Crowley asked. “Is something wrong, angel? Do you need a minute? Maybe some water?”

“I don't need water!” Aziraphale said indignantly. To his frustration, Crowley looked more annoyed than concerned. “What I need is for us to not stop at our _third_ kebab stand in twenty-four hours! The food is absolutely deplorable and I swear I shall be ill if I need to look at another slab of that rotating meat anytime this century!”

Crowley rolled his eyes (presumably) and let out a long sigh. 

At his side Salandra giggled. “You're a little fussy, aren't you, angel?”

Something froze in Aziraphale's brain froze. “You...What...You can't call me that!” That was Crowley's word for him! Crowley's endearment! He looked at Crowley beseechingly. Surely he couldn't let something like that go.

Crowley...was not looking at him. Instead he was handing some money to Salandra. “Remember, you have to pay or they won't give you the food. And if they joke about your outfit again you can stab them with a fork, but don't actually kill anyone, alright?”

She looked at the money and then at the two of them skeptically for a long moment, but then shrugged and walked off toward the kebab stand. Crowley waited until she was a few yards away then whirled back toward Aziraphale, gripping him hard by the shoulders and whispering urgently.

“Listen ang—Aziraphale. I know your probably hitting your breaking point, but you need to hold yourself together. Salandra's clearly up to something and I don't want her or you out of my sight until I know just what's going on!”

Aziraphale immediately felt himself flood with relief. “You don't trust her then? You're just pretending to get along?”

Crowley scoffed. “Trust her? I'd sooner literally throw her! She's playing with us. She's got to be. She already figured out that I...Oh dear, the kebab stand's on fire.”

Indeed, the wall of the stand was already blazing merrily and the patrons were screaming and running away. Salandra stood to one side with a basket of kebab meat, laughing like she'd never had so much fun. Aziraphale hurried over to where there was a fire hydrant nearby. All it took was a quick miracle to open up the hydrant and arc the water to exactly where the fire was...and a bit onto Salandra as well. 

To Aziraphale's annoyance, it only stopped her laughter for a moment. As soon as the water abated she spluttered and laughed even louder than before, this time pointing at herself.

“That was a good one, angel!” she called. “I didn't know you could be divine and petty at the same time!”

Aziraphale blushed and averted his gaze. “I didn't mean to hit you,” he lied. “I was just trying to save this poor business from the fire _you_ started!”

She rolled her eyes. “You angel types are always so sensitive. I don't know how I'm going to manage blessing things up to your standards.”

That was the first time Salandra had mentioned her job in the past week. She seemed to have forgotten it in her whirlwind of dancing, drinking, and cheap food. Now it gave Aziraphale an idea. 

“Crowley,” he said, “I think it would be best if Salandra and I went off on our own for a bit.”

“What?” Crowley immediately looked nervous. “We've barely been keeping her under control between the two of us! And I just _told_ you...”

Aziraphale held up a hand and looked at his friend patiently. “I know you wanted to keep an eye on us but I'm afraid your rather, er, chaotic nature may be encouraging her more extreme demonic behavior.”

“I'm still right here, you know,” Salandra piped up, no longer sounding amused. 

“Yes. I'm quite aware.” Aziraphale tilted his head toward her. “What do you say we spend a bit of time getting to each other and I'll teach you a thing or two about doing good in the world?”

Salandra's smile was slow and not at all threatening. “I think I'd like that quite a bit.”

“Good.” And he did his best not to feel intimidated. He raised his hand to snap his fingers. “We'll see you soon, Crowley. Do make sure no one was injured in the fire, would you?”

They were gone before Crowley could object.

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In an instant Crowley was alone. It wasn't normally the sort of thing that bothered him, even when it came to Aziraphale. The angel often needed time to himself to read his books and perform good deeds. Crowley didn't mind giving him that. He didn't mind giving him anything. 

It was, of course, Salandra who had him worried. She wasn't an idiot, he was sure. She had to be driving them to exhaustion on purpose. Driving them apart. But to what end? Crowley didn't know. He just wished he'd had more than a moment alone with Aziraphale. Together they could figure it out. They were a real Grade-A team like that. He wondered if Salandra knew.

It was a shame she was scheming against them, Crowley considered. Her chaotic ways were really kind of fun. In another world he might have liked her.

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Aziraphale and Salandra appeared just to the left of where Aziraphale had intended for them to land. That was something he hated about teleporting. It never seemed to work precisely. Now it looked like he had dramatically taken them to a fish market. Salandra looked skeptical until Aziraphale quickly turned her around. Then her skepticism increased.

"A church? What, are you trying to convert me, angel?"

"Do refrain from calling me that. And no, I simply thought coming here might provide some insight into the intents of heaven and make providing blessings easier."

Salandra groaned. "What's the point? You know I can't even go in there. It's consecrated ground."

“That's more of a hurdle for some than others...” Aziraphale mused. “In any case, you don't have to go in. We're watching for people coming out. The people who go to church are generally looking for goodness in their lives, either because they are going through hard times or because they seek to improve themselves. It's a good time to provide someone with a miracle.”

With divinely convenient timing, the doors to the church opened as the service let out. A crowd of worshipers made their way out to the street. Aziraphale watched them with a practiced eye. He pointed to a person helping an old woman down the stairs. 

“That one there,” he said, “is afraid to explain to their grandmother who raised them that they aren't a man or a woman. Meanwhile the grandmother has been worried lately because there is clearly something weighing on their grandchild. With a little intervention...” Aziraphale snapped his fingers. “There. Now the grandmother will be inspired to explain that her love is unconditional and the grandchild will find the courage to be honest about themselves. Everyone will be happier!”

Salandra looked skeptical. “So, what, you just influenced their thoughts and actions? Doesn't that interfere with their free will? Isn't that the whole point of humanity, to have free will?”

“Well yes, but I haven't done anything to _force_ them to speak to each other. I simply suggested that the grandmother think more deeply about today's sermon on love and connect it to her worries about her grandchild. The actions involved are still up to them.”

“So how do you know what they're going to do?”

Aziraphale smiled. “My dear, I have been around humans for a rather long time. It's not difficult to predict their actions at this point, at least on the small scale.”

Salandra snorted. “Good for them, I guess.” She gestured at the retreating pair. “Awfully lucky that some angel came along who was willing to solve their problems. And what, you didn't feel like healing the old woman's bad hip while you were at it? Giving the kid perfect grades? Paying their rent for the next six months?”

_Oh, dear,_ Aziraphale thought. This was familiar. “I'm afraid one of the great burdens of being an angel is knowing you can't solve all of everyone's problems. You must choose wisely and hope for the best. After all it's all part of God's Great Plan.” 

He winced as he said the last part. Any mention of the Great Plan was usually enough to get Crowley into a full-on rant against the Almighty and Her Plan's many inadequacies. But instead of looking indignant Salandra just looked sad. 

She watched the crowd and then turned to the church, eyes settling on the large cross set in the stained-glass window. “You really believe that, don't you? That everything has a purpose. That everything is ultimately for a greater good.”

Aziraphale opened his mouth to reply but Salandra just kept going. “I suppose they believe it too, to some extent.” She gestured to the crowd. “Or at least they want to. That's why they work so hard to get into heaven. So they can be safe. Happy. I wonder how disappointed they are when they finally die and realize they're just being sorted into a giant bureaucracy.” 

“Salandra...” Aziraphale's brows creased. He'd never seen this sincere side of her before. It worried him. “It...It isn't like that!”

She laughed. “Like hell it isn't. Demons may think we've got a raw deal, but at least we aren't humans. Doomed to live for a few seconds of free will, then shuffled to the side of the board as points in a great cosmic game of...what's it called? Checkers!”

Then, to Aziraphale's surprise, she conjured up a shiny yellow balloon and waded into the crowd. There was a child crying next to a harried-looking mother, just a teenager herself. Salandra walked over and offered the child the balloon. She stopped crying instantly and smiled at Salandra. The mother thanked her profusely. 

Salandra held up her hands, smiling but with sad eyes. “Don't thank me too much. After all, only one of us had a real choice in the matter.” The mother looked confused but went back to her daughter as Salandra walked away. 

She returned to Aziraphale's side. “There angel, I've done my good deed for the day. Now can we _please_ go somewhere else? This whole place is making me sick.”

Aziraphale nodded, still considering what he'd just seen. “Yes, of course. Come along. There's a fine cafe a few blocks away from here.”

By the time they arrived Salandra seemed to have shaken her dark thoughts. She was smiling again at least. He wasn't sure if he liked that any better. 

“So tell me, Aziraphale,” she asked, “how do you like being an angel?”

Oh dear. That was a more complicated question to answer than it once would have been. The truth was he loved doing good and twarting evil where he could. He loved aiding humanity and seeing what brilliant developments they'd come up with next. (For instance, he had only recently discovered something called L.O.L. Cats. It was very charming.) But the idea of being an angel had been a bit tarnished lately. Ever since Gabriel and the others had turned on him and showed him how willing they were to see the Earth destroyed. 

“I...” he hesitated. “I enjoy being what I feel an angel is supposed to be. But I suppose you know there's a reason I was 'fired' from my position in heaven.” 

“Actually, I don't know many of the details,” Salandra said. “Down in hell you're mostly known as Crowley's associate. The one he's been trying to corrupt for thousands of years.”

Aziraphale's eyes went wide with alarm. “Trying to corrupt?!”

“At least that's what his old reports say.”

“Oh. Quite.”

She peered at him closely with her inhuman eyes. “I'm guessing there's more to the story than that?”

Immediately Aziraphale was on his guard. Whatever she was Up To, she was Up To It again. Was this her way of trying to figure out how they had survived their respective executions? Naturally, Heaven and Hell would love to know about that. He reached out with his senses to see if they were being watched and was surprised when he didn't feel anyone. Well, perhaps the powers that be felt that one spy was enough.

Still, there wasn't any harm in telling her what everyone already knew. “Crowley and I...we developed an association over the years. It came from us both coming to appreciate the wonders of life on Earth and humanity. So when the apocalypse came it only made sense for us to work together to stop it.” There. That seemed like a nice, safe answer. He took a sip of his tea in satisfaction.

“Mmm-hmm.” Salandra looked pensive. “You're in love with Crowley, aren't you?”

Aziraphale immediately chocked on his tea and spent several seconds coughing so hard he attracted the attention of everyone in the cafe. It took a quick miracle to get them all back to their regular conversations. Unfortunately his own wouldn't go back to safe territory quite so easily. 

“That's, um, that's quite absurd!” he said hurriedly. “An angel in love with a demon! That would be...I mean just the idea...how could I even...Would you please stop laughing!”

Salandra was pressing her hand to her mouth and shaking with barely repressed mirth. “My apologies. You're just so bad at lying! Tell me, how long have you been neck-deep in forbidden love?”

“That's none of your business!” Aziraphale spoke hotly then realized he'd indirectly admitted she was right. He blushed furiously then put his face in his hands and groaned.

That just made Salandra laugh harder. “You don't need to worry so much. I'm not going to report you or anything. Really, I'm surprised that no one saw this coming. You're an angel, a being of pure love. And you've been stuck on this planet with one other immortal being for 6000 years. No wonder you started to go soft for him. You would have done that for anyone. You'd be in love with _me_ if I'd been the one in Eden with you.”

She paused, considering. “The great feline of Eden. Now _that_ would have been something.”

For his part, Aziraphale was aghast. “That's not true! Crowley is special! He...Well, I wouldn't expect _you_ to understand. He's different than any demon I've ever met.”

“Sure he is,” she said with a shrug. “He knows you better than anyone. He knows how to play you, get you to do whatever he wants.”

“Like you're trying to right now?”

At least that was enough to make Salandra stop looking so smug. Instead she looked at him like he was the biggest idiot she'd ever seen. Aziraphale didn't care. He wasn't going to let this demon he barely knew make him think that his friendship with Crowley was all a lie. That sounded just like what her superiors in Hell and Heaven would want him to think.

Still, he couldn't help being bothered by one thing she'd said. Would he really have fallen in love with anyone he'd been stuck on Earth with? Would a friendship have been inevitable? It wasn't like the other angels offered him much company. 

“I'm not lying to you, angel,” she said in an annoyingly Crowley-like fashion. “I'm trying to offer you some perspective. I'll grant that you and Crowley are allies. I'll even take your word for it that you're friends. But you're wasting your time being in love with him.”

Aziraphale cleared his throat. “And what makes you say that?”

“Because demons don't fall in love, you poor thing. It's just not something we're capable of. It was burned out of us when we fell. Sometimes I wish that weren't the case. Life in Hell might be a lot more bearable then.” For a moment she looked genuinely sad. “Anyway my point is you're never going to get what you want from him like that.”

“I don't want anything from him,” Aziraphale said quietly. Crowley being himself was enough.

“You stand a chance,” Salandra said. “Unless...”

“Unless...” In spite of himself Aziraphale was suddenly on the edge of his seat.

Salandra took his hand. It was surprisingly cool in his grip. She smiled at him, somehow looking both coy and kind. “You're going to have to meet him on _his_ terms.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're enjoying my story so far! This chapter was a lot of fun to write. I enjoyed making Salandra a more complex character. Any reviews you give will be immensely appreciated. Thank you for reading!


	4. Shudder at His Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There confessions and intimacies and everything goes horribly wrong. Enjoy!

**Chapter Four**

Aziraphale didn't feel like himself at all. He was anxious, which was, in its way, comfortably familiar, but that was the only real comfort he had. He was wearing jeans again, something he hadn't done for over a year, as well as a t-shirt with actual _words_ on it. (It had a witty quip in Latin.) He'd even updated his underwear. Normally that would seem absurd to him, but today it might very well be important.

After his talk with Salandra in the cafe the two of them had gone shopping. It had turned into a bit of “clothing montage” as Crowley might put it, with Salandra nodding and shaking her head at various ensembles until she approved of one he could stand to be seen in. Then she had smiled and taken her leave.

“Don't worry about me,” she'd said. “I'll just practice doing more good deeds for a bit. I'll make you proud!” And she'd disappeared, quite literally, into a passing crowd.

Aziraphale didn't like it, but there wasn't much he could do to track her down. His best option was to go speak with Crowley, even if that was exactly what she clearly wanted.

He took the bus to Crowley's flat, which gave him time to think. Salandra was certainly unpredictable and annoying, but he was starting to wonder if she actually was evil. Most demons weren't strictly evil in Aziraphale's experience. They just did evil deeds because that was their job. They didn't take a particular pleasure in it, never mind brutes like Hastur and Ligur.

Finally he reached Crowley's door. He raised his hand to knock, then paused, sensing something strange. A little investigation confirmed his suspicions. Crowley had put up wards around his flat, ones that would deter angels and demons alike. Aziraphale knocked nervously. On previous occasions the knocking was just a matter of courtesy. Now he genuinely needed Crowley's permission to enter.

A moment later the demon opened the door, though he carefully did not cross the threshold. He looked at Aziraphale carefully then peered up and down the hall, clearly looking for someone else. 

“Alright,” Crowley finally said, “where's she gotten to? Is she playing a new game now that she's gotten you in that ridiculous outfit?” 

Aziraphale flinched, feeling hurt. “You don't like it?” he said, looking down at his new clothes. 

“Er,” Crowley hastily back-tracked. “It's not that. They look fine. Good! They look good on you. I just didn't expect to see you in jeans again and it's so different from your usual style and...Oh, just come in already!” He shot another look down the hall as though looking for a mocking audience, then pulled Aziraphale inside his flat.

“So what happened after you left? Did Salandra cause any more trouble? Are you alright?”

Aziraphale paused, unsure how to summarize the events of the past few hours and his thoughts on them, but Crowley misunderstood his silence.

“You don't need to worry about being open,” Crowley said. “I just finished putting up some few wards so she can't spy on us anymore.”

“Anymore?” Aziraphale asked with a sinking feeling. “You mean she's been watching us up til now?”

Crowley nodded. “For who knows how long. I get the creeps just thinking about it.”

“...Quite.” For his part Aziraphale felt both embarrassed and possessive. How dare she watch Crowley like that without his knowledge? Didn't a man have a right to yell at his plants in privacy? Or...or whatever else Crowley did when he was alone. Aziraphale blushed at the images that suddenly flooded his mind.

“So what did happen?” Crowley asked, interrupting his thoughts.

“We, um, we talked. It's a shame you missed it. I think you would have enjoyed the questions she had about creation and the Great Plan.” _She also said I wouldn't have loved you if you weren't my only option._

The demon raised an eyebrow. “Really? The most interesting thing she asked me all week was how mixed drinks are made. I wonder why you got all the theological introspection.”

Aziraphale shrugged uncomfortably. “Perhaps I was just there at the right time. Or perhaps she felt I was a kind soul who could offer her wisdom at a trying point in her existence.”

The theory was of some comfort to Aziraphale. Crowley, on the other hand just snorted.

“What?” Aziraphale asked with a glare. “Is my position as a guide and guardian of humanity really that funny to you?”

“You were better off with your first theory, angel.” Crowley still had a teasing note in his voice. “She was probably having some existential angst and wanted to gripe about it to the only creature around who would understand. That's why I do it, anyway.”

Aziraphale's heart sank. “Am I really that interchangeable to you? Could any angel have served in my place these years?”

At once Crowley looked quite alarmed, enough that his sunglasses drooped and Aziraphale could see the yellows of his eyes. “What in the world would make you think that? I hate other angels! Is this the sort of nonsense that Salandra's been spouting while I was gone?”

That was heartening, but Aziraphale still found that it wasn't quite what he hoping to hear. There was something more he wanted, something that he yearned for. “Salandra...did suggest the outfit,” he admitted. “She thought it might, well, get your attention.”

“Huh? Well, I suppose it has done that...” He looked at Aziraphale curiously, cautiously, and with a hint of something else in his gaze. “Why do you need to catch my attention?”

Aziraphale swallowed a lump in his throat. It was now or never. “Crowley, my dear, may I kiss you?”

A silence stretched between as Crowley stared at him with slack-jawed disbelief. Aziraphale was tempted to retract the question and then act like nothing had happened, but something told him it was very important that he stand his ground. 

For his part Crowley was finding it very difficult to string thoughts together. He knew he should be concerned about this sudden offer and what might have led to it. His heart was doing odd, loopy things that he should really examine. And to top it all off he should certainly be concerned about that desperate, sad look on Aziraphale's face.

Aziraphale the angel.

_His_ angel.

Who he could be kissing.

Finally, Crowley couldn't hold himself back any longer. He surged forward into Aziraphale's arms and coiled himself around him. He kissed Aziraphale's eyes, cheeks, and ears before the angel finally held his head in place and firmly kissed him on the lips. And then again. And again.

The feeling was incredible and overwhelming. Crowley was kissing Aziraphale! Their lips met with so much passion that it was hard to find time to breathe, so Crowley simply stopped breathing. He had more important things to worry about.

Soon Aziraphale moved on to Crowley's neck, kissing and nipping at the tender skin. It was soft and teasing in the most wonderful way. Crowley moaned in appreciation. Then, to his confusion and disappointment, Aziraphale pulled back. 

“This is good, right?” he asked Crowley. “This is what you want?” Aziraphale bit his lip in worry and looked so charming that Crowley wanted to kiss him for the first time all over again.

“This is wonderful,” Crowley replied, trying to look far more cool and confident than he actually felt. “We should definitely keep going.”

Aziraphale swallowed again and nodded. “Alright then.” He pushed Crowley up against the nearest wall and started on his neck again. Crowley gasped and saw stars. 

It wasn't until a few minutes of this had passed that things started to go wrong.

In the midst of another amazing kiss, Crowley felt the tip of Aziraphale's tongue probing at the entrance to his mouth. _French kissing? Already?_ Crowley thought. Interesting. Aziraphale was more adventurous than he would have thought. So he let him in and enjoyed the delightful texture of the angel's tongue against his own. 

Then Aziraphale pressed their bodies closer together, pressing one of his legs between Crowley's. This too was surprisingly forward of the angel. Personally Crowley would have preferred to take some time to savor things a bit more, but if that was what Aziraphale wanted, Crowley could give as good as he got. He pressed back with equal fervor, feeling intense lust starting to build inside him. 

Aziraphale pulled back, but only slightly. “Shall we, um, go to your bedroom?” He was blushing madly and wouldn't look Crowley in the eye. 

Crowley...frowned. This really was unexpectedly eager of the angel. Not that Crowley minded, of course. What demon in their right mind would turn down an opportunity to sleep with a lover this magnificent? And how often did anyone get to see such an expression of lust from an actual angel?

“...Yeah. Yeah, sure, let's,” Crowley replied hoarsely. 

They kissed again and Aziraphale took his hand, leading him to the bedroom. He led him right onto the bed itself, pulling Crowley down on top of him. They kissed more, deeply, but Crowley found he couldn't quite enjoy the moment. Something was off. The lust between them was ebbing and flowing. He tried to pull back, but Aziraphale pushed closer and began to undo Crowley's buttons.

“This is good, isn't it? This is what you want?” Aziraphale asked. He still wouldn't look Crowley in the eyes. 

Crowley stopped Aziraphale's fumbling fingers and just held his hands for a moment, not sure what to say. Then he noticed something worse. Aziraphale began to shake. His hands were shuddering in Crowley's grasp. Crowley held them tighter, trying to hold them still, as though the shaking were the problem and not a symptom. 

“I...I'm trying,” Aziraphale said nervously. “I've done this before, I swear. You're...you're going to like it!” The shaking had gotten worse. To Crowley's horror, he realized that it sounded like Aziraphale was going to cry. He had hardly ever seen his angel cry.

“Hey. Hey, it's alright,” Crowley quickly said, pressing a hand to Aziraphale's cheek. “We don't have to do this if you don't want to. We...We can even forget the whole thing. We can just go back to being friends who don't have sex with each other.”

He had hoped that would help. Instead Aziraphale bent over and started sobbing. Crowley's hand slipped from his cheek and in the absence of something to touch both Crowley's arms started flailing. What was going on?! Why was his angel crying?! He felt like he must have done something very wrong, but he had no idea what. Hadn't he followed all the signals?

“What? What is this?” Crowley asked desperately. “Did I...Did I hurt you? Did I say something wrong? Can I, bugger all, make you some tea?”

Aziraphale took a few deep breaths and wiped at his eyes. “No. That won't be necessary, my dear. Though perhaps we should continue this at another time. If that's alright with you.”

“Of course it's alright, but what's going on?” 

“I'd...rather not say.” Aziraphale stared down at his hands intently, as though he couldn't believe the things they'd just done. “It's all rather embarrassing, I'm afraid.”

Crowley scoffed. “We've known each other for six thousand years, angel. We've seen each other through plenty of embarrassing things. Remember the time I got stuck as a goat for a week? And all the other goats kept trying to pick fights with me?”

“True. The 1970s were a strange time for you.” There. Aziraphale had the ghost of a smile. Crowley reached out to touch his shoulder, but the angel flinched away. 

Alright, this was officially torture. This wasn't right. This wasn't what things were supposed to be like between them. Aziraphale had to know he was safe Crowley. Crowley would never hurt him. He had to know that!

“Please, Aziraphale, talk to me. What have I done wrong?”

Aziraphale fussed with his t-shirt, straightening out the wrinkles they'd put there. “Nothing, my dear,” he said with false casualness. “The blame is entirely mine.”

That didn't sound likely. "What do you mean? And for hell's sake, would you please look at me?"

Aziraphale looked up at last, almost defiantly, and Crowley's words died in his throat. Had Aziraphale's eyes always been this piercingly blue? It reminded Crowley not of heaven, but of what heaven was supposed to be, the way humans always pictured it. Aziraphale's gaze was potent yet pained. Something was clearly weighing on him.

“What is it?” Crowley asked gently. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. I won't hold it again—”

“I'm in love with you,” Aziraphale said all at once. The words came tumbling out of him like a dam had burst. “I've been in love with you for centuries. I was too scared to do anything about it before, but now that we're free I thought I had a chance. That's why I had to try and woo you. But Salandra explained...She said that wouldn't work with you.”

Crowley almost didn't hear him. His mind had frozen at 'I'm in love with you' and was having trouble taking anything else in. His thoughts were in an icy rut. Someone was in love with him. An _angel_ was in love with him. That angel was _Aziraphale_. Each sentence was a new layer of amazing impossibility. He didn't know what to say, let alone do. 

“Love me?” Crowley finally stammered out. “But...But I'm a _demon_ and you...”

“I know, I know!” Aziraphale threw up his hands in frustration. “Salandra explained it all. There's no point in wooing you because demons don't fall in love they fall in lust! Your ability to love was torn away when you Fell. Everyone knows that!” He paused, looked away, then looked back at Crowley, a fragile hope in his gaze. “Unless, of course, everyone we know is wrong?”

“I don't know. I've never been in love.”

That was what came out of Crowley's mouth before he'd even considered the implications of the statement. Before he realized that he was essentially taking Aziraphale's gentle, tender heart and squashing it beneath his boot. Before he saw heartbreak bloom like an explosion slowly over Aziraphale's face.

“I...I see.” Aziraphale took several deep breaths, clearly fighting to keep his emotions in check. “So, no matter what I gave you, it was never going to be enough, was it? That's...I suppose I should have expected that. She did warn me.”

Abruptly the angel stood from the bed while Crowley continued to try and work out just how his life had suddenly gone so horribly wrong. 

“I think it's best if we spend a bit of time apart, my de—Crowley. I'm afraid I'm the one who went too fast this time and I need a bit to recover. Do drop by the bookshop in a hundred years or so. And please, for my sake, pretend today never happened.”

With that Aziraphale hurried toward the door. Crowley watched in horror, feeling like something would be lost forever if the angel left Crowley's flat just now. 

“Wait! Aziraphale! Don't!” Crowley cried out.

Aziraphale didn't acknowledge him. He closed the door behind him.

Crowley was alone.

He felt whirl of emotions he couldn't name. He was in pain. He was overwhelmed. But above all he was certain of one thing.

He was going to _kill_ Salandra.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading about broken hearts and bad attempts at sex! The angst was surprisingly easy to write about, and kind of fun! It may have more of a place in my future stories. 
> 
> In any case, comments are greatly appreciated. Thank you for reading my story! 
> 
> As always, you all are welcome to reach out to me on tumblr under comicgeekery!


	5. A Snake and a Lion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley confronts Salandra.

**Chapter Five**

Demons didn't love. Everyone knew that. Crowley had known that from the time he Fell. And it was fine really. A lack of love didn't mean he didn't appreciate things. Wine was great. Plants were beautiful. Tourists desperate for a GPS signal were hilarious. It was a good life, even if one never fully understood sappy romantic comedies. 

Which didn't explain...certain things.

Like why Crowley wanted to cry. He hadn't cried in decades and even then it tended to be overly fairly extreme situations in the human world. But he could recognize the symptoms. His chest was tight, his breath was short, and his eyes kept stinging. Worse than that, he instinctively felt like crying would somehow help his current situation. 

It would not.

Instead Crowley made himself invisible and flew above the streets of London, hunting by smell for the one who was responsible for all this pain.

In the end she wasn't hard to find. She was in Regent's Park making balloon animals for children...while also pick-pocketing their parents. She wasn't masking her aura at all, probably not feeling the need to. After all, who else there was going to sense it? As Crowley landed behind her she handed a small girl a balloon giraffe. 

“Here you go, little one,” she said. “Remember, morality is a lie and your life has no purpose!”

The child went away without comment. 

Crowley put away his wings and made himself visible again. “Is this your second assignment, then? Doing good and evil for children in the park? Seems a bit tame by the bosses' standards.”

Salandra looked his way and smiled faintly. “I was wondering if it would be you who came. I'm surprised you've let me see you coming.”

That...was an unsettling and unexpected response. Crowley chose to ignore it. 

“I say second assignment of course, because I'm pretty sure I just came from the fallout of your first one.”

Salandra shrugged and started twisting another balloon. “Oh? Did things not go well with the angel?”

Crowley snarled and slapped the balloon out of her hands with a rubbery squeak. He wasn't going to put up with any distractions. “What did you say to Aziraphale?”

“I told him to have sex with you.”

“Why?”

“Because it was the closest thing he'd ever get to you loving him.”

“Nrk.” Did she have to be so blunt? Crowley shook his head. He had to focus. “And why did you tell him that? Out of the goodness of your heart? Did you actually think you were helping anything?”

“Oh, no. I imagine he's quite heart-broken now that you've used him and tossed him aside without a word about loving him.” She smirked at him. “That's about how it went, isn't it?”

A fresh wave of fury rose in Crowley. He closed the distance between them and grabbed Salandra's shoulders hard. “So you were trying to hurt him?! You were trying to make _me_ hurt him! I don't care what twisted demonic reasoning you were following, but I swear you are going to regret it!”

Crowley made sure to radiate all the wrath he could. He wanted her cowering in fear of him. She had to be punished for what she'd done. For the pain he'd seen in Aziraphale's eyes. He needed to get revenge. Because if he didn't...If he didn't that would mean....

Why wasn't she cowering in fear of him?

Instead she was looking at him with anticipation. “Well? I hurt your precious angel. What are you going to do about it?”

That was enough to make Crowley fly backwards several feet. If he'd had a heart it would have been pounding. “This...This is a trap!” he said with sudden horrified realization. “You _want_ me to attack you!”

Salandra looked at him with wide eyes, then it was her turn to be furious. She raised her hand and punched at Crowley's face, raw demonic energy making up for the physical distance between them. Crowley went sprawling to the ground and his sunglasses flew off onto the pavement. Salandra walked over to him and yanked him up by the front of his shirt. 

“You and Aziraphale have Heaven and Hell so worried right now, but I don't think there's actually anything special about you. I think you're just a pair of annoying rule-breakers!” She dropped him then gave him a kick in the ribs for good measure.

Crowley gasped in pain and rolled on his side to get away from her. He hadn't thought this through. _Why_ hadn't he thought this through?

Because he'd been too busy being stupid and angry. He'd felt like he'd needed to do this for Aziraphale, but it had only been for himself. Aziraphale wouldn't want him to hurt someone else, much less risk getting hurt himself. Because Aziraphale was a good person. And Aziraphale loved him.

By God above and Satan below, Aziraphale _loved_ him!

It felt like the thought was settling into Crowley properly for the first time. _Aziraphale_ was in _love_ with _him_. It gave him a strange feeling inside, a sort of twisting giddiness that made him want to laugh. It was a very odd sensation to have while being pommeled. He was distracted from his sudden wave of bliss by a sharp kick to his back.

“Oh, come on!” Salandra cried. “Are you really just going to let me trash you like this? You can do better! I believe in you!” She kicked him again, though with notably less force.

This time Crowley was able to anticipate the blow and grabbed her foot before her hit could land. He pulled and threw her off-balance so she tumbled to the ground. 

“Ow!” she yelped. “Now that's more like it!” Then, as Crowley was scrambling to his feet, she conjured an honest-to-Satan fire ball and threw it at him. 

Crowley managed to jump out of the way and the fire hit a nearby tree instead. Still, he felt offended. “A fire ball? Really? You started off so creative and now you're just getting cliché. Are you going to attack me with a pitchfork next?”

“At least I know how to fight, you slithering, hissing coward!”

It was true, it had been a few millennia since he'd had cause to actually fight anyone, not since the Great War. Still, he had learned a few things back then that had stuck with him, such using his opponent's nature against them.

“Hissing isn't all I'm good for!” Crowley declared. He then did several things at once. First, he made a puff of smoke appear to cover what he was doing. Second, he switched forms into a snake. Finally, he miracled a bird to come flying out of the smoke just where he'd been. As far as tricks went it was on par with Aziraphale's magic shows, but he hoped it was enough to distract a cat like Salandra long enough for him to get away. Because running away seemed like a very good idea at this point. 

“Hey! Get back here!” she yelled with a voice full of frustration and disappointment. Crowley slithered as fast his could in his tiny, garter snake form. Why did the grass have to be so short? Didn't humans have any respect for fleeing predators?

He knew he had to move fast, both physically and mentally. So Salandra was trying to goad him into a fight. Okay. What did that mean? What did she want? Was she working under orders or was she acting on her own? Argh! He needed time to think! Maybe if he could freeze time for a moment, but that was iffy with all the powers he had already used in rapid succession. He could already feel himself getting drained. He was even moving slower than he would have liked and...

He didn't have a chance to finish his thought before a giant paw descended and pinned him to the ground. A voice above him growled and he had the feeling that, could she talk right now, she'd be saying “Gotcha.”

Suddenly being without limbs didn't seem like such a smart idea. Salandra lowered her head toward him and Crowley froze in terror. Was she going to discorporate him? Even worse, was she going to _eat_ him? In all his thousands of years of existence, Crowley had never been eaten. He didn't think he could handle the indignity of it. At the least he would go down with a fight. He gave himself some venom and prepared to bite as good as he was bitten.

There was a long pause as lion and snake stared each other down. They felt like age-old enemies preparing for a final show-down, just like in the westerns Crowley enjoyed sometimes. They were both surprised to be suddenly interrupted. 

“Just what are you two _idiots_ doing?”

It was Aziraphale, looking out of breath and thoroughly exasperated. He looked between the two of them and gestured at them as though he could not believe what he was seeing but at the same time wasn't surprised. “Just what is going on here?”

Crowley and Salandra moved apart, like two children who'd been caught misbehaving. 

“Look at the two of you!” Aziraphale went on. “Throwing miracles around all willy-nilly in the middle of a park full of people! Do you have any idea how much attention you're drawing to yourselves? I sensed you all the way back in Soho! And did someone throw a _fireball_ at that poor tree?”

Crowley sheepishly returned to his human form. “That one was Salandra!” he was quick to point out. “I told her it was cliché, but you try talking sense into her!”

Aziraphale didn't appear to be listening. He was busy casting miracles to put out the fire and make the admittedly rather large crowd forget what they had seen. Beside Crowley, Salandra took her human form as well. She looked nervous and uncertain.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. “Why aren't you sulking back in your bookshop?”

The angel looked at her sharply. “As I said, I could sense your little skirmish from there. Who knows how much attention you've drawn from Heaven and Hell!”

“Oh! Ooooh!” cried Crowley. “Is that what your plan was? To provoke me into fighting you so the legions of Hell and Heaven would have an excuse to come to your defense?”

“Would you stop trying to guess my plans! You're really bad at it!” Salandra waved her arms in exasperation. “Look, what if I just discorporate Aziraphale? I've got a dagger.” She pulled one out of her boot. “We can do it all mundane-like. No need to get the higher-ups involved.”

She began to step towards Aziraphale, pointing the dagger at his throat. Crowley felt a fresh wave of anger and panic rise up in him. But it was Aziraphale who made the first move. He took Salandra by the wrist and twisted her arm behind her back, making her wince in pain until she dropped the dagger.

“I'm afraid, my dear, you won't find me quite so easy to over-come as all that,” he said calmly, though with a hint of satisfaction. “I haven't gone 6,000 years without a few rounds of fisticuffs of my own. Now, why don't we find somewhere quieter to sit down and have a little chat? I think that might satisfy everyone's needs at the moment.”

It was easy to tell that Salandra wanted to protest. Crowley certainly wanted to. But Aziraphale had such a calm yet determined way about him that neither of them could bring themselves to contradict him. Crowley was quietly impressed. Perhaps this was what came of Aziraphale finally embracing the fact that they were on Their Own Side. He seemed so much less afraid than he used to be. 

So they awkwardly miracled their way to Soho, the bookshop seeming to be the only natural place to go. However there was a problem when Crowley tried to go in. Namely, he couldn't. An invisible barrier repelled him. Salandra smirked at him from inside the shop.

“What!” Crowley squawked with indignation. “You set up a ward against _me_ but not _her_?”

“Oh, dear,” Aziraphale muttered in that way he did when he was very deliberately not swearing. Then he did some magic fussery and waved Crowley through. “My apologies, Crowley. After our last encounter I didn't think I'd see you for...some time.”

That hurt. It took some skill to parse what Aziraphale was saying under all his polite words sometimes, but no one had more practice than Crowley. What he meant was that Crowley had hurt him so badly that Aziraphale actually expected Crowley to stay away for a full hundred years. It meant that Salandra might be dangerous and manipulative, but in the end she wasn't the one who broke Aziraphale's heart. Crowley had done that all on his own.

That put a wrenching sensation in Crowley's own chest. Yet another feeling he couldn't quite identify or understand. He just knew that it hurt and he wanted it to stop. Unless...unless that pain meant that Aziraphale's would stop. Crowley would do anything to make Aziraphale happy again.

Wait a moment. Did that mean...? But surely not. That was impossible. Then again, a lot had _seemed_ impossible lately. So maybe...Could he...

Salandra nudged Crowley out of his thoughts. “Hey, it looks like you're on the edge of some life-altering revelation. Could you save it for, like, ten minutes? I'd really like to get my bit in first.”

Crowley just glared at her as Aziraphale handed them each a cup of tea. “Alright, you want to talk so bad all of a sudden? Go ahead. We're all ears.”

“Yes, my dear,” Aziraphale added far more sympathetically than Crowley felt was warranted. “We'd really love to know just what it is that's making you cause all this fuss.”

Did he really have to use _that_ word? In regard to _her_?

Salandra went quiet for a moment, looking pensively into her cup of tea. Surprisingly she looked rather sad, like something heavy was weighing on her. Finally she sighed and looked back up at them. “Alright, I'll come clean. I'm not really afraid of the worst that can happen.”

That raised some eyebrows but Aziraphale and Crowley let her continue without interrupting. “The truth is, I was sent to Earth by Heaven and Hell not just to perform miracles but, well, to mess with you two a bit.”

“Aha! I knew it!” Crowley exclaimed.

“Oh calm down, you didn't know anything,” Aziraphale admonished. “What I don't understand is why the forces that be are trying to bother us at all. I thought we'd scared them into leaving us alone.”

“You have, for the most part,” Salandra admitted. “I was the one to suggest the assignment. Maybe you couldn't be killed, but you could still be hurt. Psychologically tortured if you will. It's a specialty of mine.” For a moment she looked proud in the face of the now two beings glaring at her.

“...Alright then,” Aziraphale said as calmly as he could. “That explains a lot of your, er, erratic behavior. But why did you want to hurt us so badly? We don't even know you!”

“Not to mention how dangerous it would be to come after us,” Crowley added. “You must know what happened to Ligur.”

Salandra stared them both down until the truth finally dawned on the two of them.

“Oh.”

“Then you _wanted_ us to...Oh, dear.”

Crowley and Aziraphale exchanged a glance. Neither was quite sure how to proceed at this point and Salandra was still staring them down, daring them to say something trite. 

“Well, what have you got for me?” she said at last. “'Oh, no, you have so much to live for'? 'Eternity in Hell isn't _that_ bad'? Or maybe you, Aziraphale, will try and convert me! Tell me that existence is so much more meaningful working for Heaven instead! Because they're the nicest, most forgiving people up _there_!” 

She sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “No. The best option is to get someone to off me. Someone who'd do it quick without all the torture that Hell and Heaven are into. You two are indestructible and willing to defend yourselves. Plus you're a pair of idiots, so it seemed simple to manipulate you into doing what I want.”

“Alright then,” Crowley said in a tone of reluctant understanding. “But why are you coming forward with all this now?”

“Because I'm tired!” she yelled, raising her arms in the air. “I'm sick of watching and waiting pulling people's strings! I'm exhausted just at the thought of coming up with another subtle plan to make you hate me. And I knew this one was in the bin as _he_ showed up.” She gestured at Aziraphale. “Crowley would never kill someone out of spite while you were watching. I've seen enough of you two to know that much.”

Aziraphale looked at Crowley, something warm in his gaze. “Is that true, dear boy?”

Heat played across Crowley's cheeks. “...s'not like I enjoy killing in general. Ligur was a pretty big exception.” He blushed further at the admission. It wasn't very demonic to admit to disliking certain sinful acts. Still, he do a lot to make Aziraphale continue looking at him like that. 

Salandra watched the two of them and rolled her eyes. “Well, I'm hoping you'll make another exception. For me. I want you to kill me.”

A silence stretched among them like the awkward pause when someone on the street asks for money and all you've got is the fiver you were saving for lunch. Namely, it was the silence of people who _could_ help, but really didn't want to.

“Oh, come on,” Salandra finally said. “Just think of it as a favor! It doesn't have to be a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” Aziraphale was aghast. “You're asking us to completely end your existence! You don't have a soul, Salandra. You won't go to any afterlife once you're gone. No one in their right mind would choose that!”

“I don't care, it's still my choice!” Salandra exclaimed. She paused then added, more quietly, “I don't care if I'm nothing afterward. At least I'll be free.”

She started to cry after that and Crowley felt himself truly out of his depth, as if he hadn't been already. This wasn't right. Demons weren't meant to get depression of all things. Unless...Unless this really was the logical reaction to the Great Plan and a demon's place in it. Caught in a conflict that you wanted nothing to do with, using humans as pawns in a great cosmic game that you'd never really learn the rules of because She wasn't too keen on explaining anything.

Crowley had railed against these things plenty of times in his existence, but he'd never been driven to suicide. Maybe it was because, ultimately, he was a more optimistic sort of demon. Or maybe it was because he'd been lucky. He'd had the Earth and all the pleasures and entertainment that offered. He'd also, more recently, found purpose in protecting it. Because the Earth had given him everything, including a world to love.

It had also given him Aziraphale.

Love.

Aziraphale.

Huh. Well then, had it always been that bloody obvious?

Now wasn't the time, clearly, but Crowley still couldn't stop himself from reaching out and taking Aziraphale's hand. Just gently. Nothing too extreme, nothing too fast. But still. They would have so much to say to each other when all of this was done. Aziraphale looked back at him with a confused expression. That didn't stop him from squeezing Crowley's hand back. 

In the meantime, Salandra's tears had subsided, because sometimes there's only so much you can cry about what you've wept over a million times already. She saw their hands and swore quietly to herself. “Bollocks. You two aren't going to kill me, are you? You've gotten it into your heads to be _noble_. Well, fine then.” She stood. “I'll just have to find another way. Maybe I'll go kill the antichrist's human parents to get him to do me in. Or maybe I'll just cause enough havoc that God Herself will smite me. I don't know. I'm not feeling subtle right now.”

She began to stomp towards the door, but Aziraphale reached out for her, never once letting go of Crowley's hand. 

“Do wait, Salandra. I don't think things are as bleak as you believe.”

And she did wait. She turned and she sneered, but she waited to hear what the angel had to say. There was something desperate and pleading in her eyes. Crowley realized suddenly how much she wanted another answer, something that would give her meaning. 

Thinking about it like that, the answer was as palpable as the warmth from Aziraphale's hand.

“Stay with us,” Crowley said before he could think it through. “On Earth, that is. Stay on Earth and get to know it a bit. You've liked what you've seen so far, yeah? And there's a lot more to it than dancing and kebabs.”

“And you care about the humans,” Aziraphale added. “Why else would you be so troubled about their fates?”

Salandra scoffed but she looked embarrassed now. “You lot wouldn't want me here. Not after everything I've done to you.”

Aziraphale gripped Crowley's hand tighter for a moment, but his voice was still serene. “My dear, Crowley and I have a friendship that has lasted millennia. You were never truly going to threaten that.”

“Oh for—You're in love!” Salandra exclaimed. “Stop talking about your friendship as if it's the only thing you've ever wanted! My whole plan depended on you being madly in love with each other and too stupid to actually say anything about it, especially this one.” She nodded at Crowley. 

That was the moment when their hands flew apart. 

“But, but you said...” Aziraphale spluttered. “You said that demons don't fall in love! And _you_” he looked at Crowley, “said you've never been in love! I'm sorry, but there must be some misunderstanding.” 

Crowley's cheeks felt like they were on fire. He outright growled at her. “Do you not have a subtle bone in your body? There were going to be candles and...and chocolates and I don't even know what else! You can't just spring romantic confessions on people like this!”

“Well, if it weren't for me you wouldn't even know you had something to confess!” Salandra snapped back. “See? I knew you wouldn't want me living on Earth with you!”

Too much was going through Crowley's head. He was in love. He was mad at Salandra. Aziraphale loved him back. Salandra was trying to get herself killed. It was all too contradictory and overwhelming. He turned to Aziraphale for help. 

The angel gave him a reassuring smile. Then he knew that everything would be okay. Even if the how wasn't clear yet, Crowley knew it would all work out so long as Aziraphale was by his side. 

“Is it true?” Aziraphale asked, his eyes shining with hope and wonder. “Do you really love me after all?”

Crowley shuffled his feet and rubbed at the back of his head. “Er, yeah. Yeah. I just had an epiphany of sorts and, well, I'm kind of over the moon for you. I'm sorry I didn't put it together sooner. Might have saved us both a lot of trouble.”

“Could you...Could you say it? Just so we're absolutely clear?”

And Crowley smiled. For all that had happened today, for all the hardships they had ever faced together and apart, God had given this moment, this perfect moment. It was almost enough for him to forgive Her. 

He took off his sunglasses and set them to the side. He took Aziraphale's hands in his and kissed his knuckles. Then Crowley looked Aziraphale in the eyes and said, slowly and clearly, “Aziraphale, my angel, I love you.”

A little bit of divine power must have gotten loose, because Aziraphale practically glowed with happiness. It took Crowley's breath away. Aziraphale moved closer to him, looking him in the eyes and running his hand up Crowley's arm to cup his cheek. Crowley shivered at the touch and leaned into it. They moved closer together, foreheads pressed against each other. 

“Crowley, my darling. May I kiss you? Properly this time?”

As if Crowley could have possibly said no. “Pleasssse,” he said with a bit of a hiss. 

Aziraphale leaned forward and closed the distance between them. His lips pressed Crowley's lightly at first, then harder as the kiss deepened. Crowley felt lost at sea. This wasn't the same as their previous kisses. There was no heavy-handed lust this time, no uncomfortable forced actions. This was just, it had to be, pure love. Crowley had never felt something so miraculous in his life. 

They stood like that for a few seconds or minutes or hours before Salandra spoke up. She was quiet, like she was afraid of breaking something precious. 

“Wow, that was...I've never seen anything like that,” she said. “So that's love, huh?”

Reluctantly the two of them pealed apart. Aziraphale smiled at her. “It's one kind of love. You see a lot of it, here on Earth.”

Salandra fiddled with a strand of hair, clearly thinking very intensely. “That's why you two worked so hard to save the world, isn't it? To save that love. You found something worth defying Heaven and Hell for. You wanted to fight for the humans and their home.”

Crowley shifted uncomfortably. He didn't want to bring up the material comforts that he'd initially bribed Aziraphale with. Because demons didn't generally like to admit when they had soft feelings. He'd never said that he was trying to save humanity, the children, the love. He'd said it was about music and sushi and wine. He cared about things like his car, but in the end he'd been willing to sacrifice even that to save the world. 

It really was all about love, wasn't it? Bless it, he felt like an idiot.

As usual, when it came to compassion, Aziraphale was far more on the ball. “The Earth can be your home too, you know. We've made it ours. We have our own side, even, in the battle between Heaven and Hell. You could join us. I don't think anyone could do anything to you if you were under our protection.”

Still, Salandra seemed to hesitate. “You'd do that for me? Take me under your wing, so to speak?”

“Hey now,” Crowley interrupted. “He only does that for _me_! But yeah, we'll show you the ropes of being on Earth and all that. As romantic as it would be, giving the world only two defenders is still ultimately a bit bleak. It'd be nice to have you on the team. Maybe that would even encourage other demons and angels to join us, y'know, for when Armageddon actually does happen.”

Aziraphale shivered at the thought. Salandra looked more contemplative. “It _is_ going to happen someday, isn't it? Hell and Heaven won't back off forever. The world will be destroyed.”

“Not if we can help it,” Aziraphale said with determination. 

“Yes,” Salandra agreed. “We.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost done! The final chapter should be up in a few days! 
> 
> I hope you all have enjoyed this story so far. Once again, comments are a complete joy to me. So please, send me your thoughts!


	6. Love and Work to Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get wrapped up, for the moment at least.

**Chapter Six**

Salandra had some interesting ideas about addressing the potential apocalypse. As she was still on Heaven and Hell's respective payrolls to annoy and inconvenience her new friends, she suggested she was in the perfect position to act as a spy to both sides and keep Crowley and Aziraphale informed as to what they were up to. She also thought she could arrange to get them both new bodies if they were discorporated again, which was a nice weight off their shoulders. 

Her work to interfere with their lives went on, but now took the form of regular movie nights. Salandra continued to have simple tastes and came to truly love humanity after several Disney and Studio Ghibli films. 

At the end of one such night Salandra was weeping into the lapel of Aziraphale's waistcoat at the end of Ponyo. Aziraphale was looking over at Crowley in desperation and Crowley was trying hard not to laugh at his angel's predicament. 

Finally the credits ended and Aziraphale stood up as quickly as he could, dislodging Salandra and sending her sprawling onto the couch. That wasn't enough to stop her crying. “They're just...so in love!”

Salandra also had a weakness for love stories, which they'd discovered was an excellent way to get her to leave when they'd gotten tired of her company. Crowley decided it was time to use that strategy. 

“You're right, Salandra. Ponyo and Sosuke are profoundly happy now despite the unlikely nature of their love. It just makes me want to, ah, cuddle and hold hands with my own unlikely love.” Crowley stood up and softly took Aziraphale's hand in his, making a point of tilting his head and giving him a particularly doe-eyed look from behind his sunglasses. Aziraphale blushed and looked over-the-moon in return. That was enough to make Crowley's heart flip, despite the charade of the situation. 

There was pause before Aziraphale realized what they were doing. “Crowley, I...Ah, oh yes. Salandra dear, it seems that Crowley and I are being overcome by a fresh wave of romantic emotions. Do you think you could leave us to them?”

“Oh! Of course!” Salandra lept up from the couch and began to gather her things. “I'll just leave you two to stare into each other's eyes and make bold declarations of love and...” She looked up at both of them, seeming on the brink of tears again. “You two, you're just so beautiful!” And she squished them both into a tight hug. 

Moments later she was out the door and Crowley and Aziraphale breathed sighs of relief. It wasn't easy being guardians and companions to a demon who still very much depended on them for meaning in her life. Still, it was nice to have a new friend among them. 

“Do you think she'll be alright?” Aziraphale asked. “Ultimately, I mean?” 

Crowley shrugged. “It's hard to know. She seems alright when we're making gooey eyes at each other, but I know she still has dark times. She was talking to me just the other day about the true nature of evil and man's inhumanity to man. No one does that in a cheerful state.” 

“Yes, well. Suicidal tendencies aren't sort of thing cured overnight. We will have to be kind and patient with her as she continues her journey.” Aziraphale looked so solemn that Crowley couldn't stand it. He leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss. 

They'd been kissing with increasing frequency for some time now. It still sent a thrill through Crowley and left Aziraphale a blushing mess. “Don't get too serious on me now,” Crowley said with a smirk. “We both know you love being a guardian angel.”

“Perhaps,” Aziraphale tentatively admitted. He looked Crowley in the eyes and his gaze was filled with warmth and affection. “That doesn't mean I don't have time for multiple interests though.” Then Aziraphale moved in for a kiss of his own, slower and still a bit nervous but growing less so everyday. Crowley had learned that he had to wait and hold still for Aziraphale's kisses. They were always worth it. 

“You know,” Crowley said once they had parted again, “we _did_ just say we were overcome with romantic affection. I'd hate for us to become liars...” Aziraphale gave him an amused look. “Well, for you to become a liar anyway.”

“My dear, my darling, you need hardly twist words so much to convince me to kiss you again and again until the sun comes up.” Aziraphale wrapped his arms around Crowley and gently ran his fingers through the hair at the back of Crowley's head. “I love you.”

Crowley swallowed. Those words were so simple, yet they still practically made him sway with the headiness of them. There was nothing he could do but respond in kind. “I love you too.” 

Things weren't perfect now. Salandra's presence was a regular reminder that their current uninterrupted lifestyle was a reprieve and not a new status quo. New challenges would arise. The other sides would come and face them again. The thought weighed on Crowley and Aziraphale more than they would have liked. But at the same time they took comfort. They weren't alone. They had each other. They had everything their bond had given them, including a new ally. They didn't have much, but they had faith in themselves. 

They kissed, like Aziraphale had promised, again and again until the warmth between them transformed into a heavy heat. Crowley was burning to touch Aziraphale, to run his hands over every part of him. But he waited. He always waited now.

“Do you, ah, want to take this a bit further?” Crowley asked, gentle and careful.

Aziraphale blushed and kissed him again, full of love and passion. “I think I would like that very much, my dear.”

“By further I mean sex. Just to be clear.”

“...Yes, I had worked that out. Thank you, Crowley.”

And they both laughed. Happy. Relieved. Things weren't perfect, but in this moment they might as well have been. They held hands as they moved to the bedroom and continued with the rest of their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap! Thank you so much for reading my story; I hope you've enjoyed it! As always comments are my lifeblood and everyone is welcome to contact me on Tumblr under comicgeekery!


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